Once before time became expensive a droolworthy citizen named Peterkin Appletree decided to upcycle his house. The first thing he did was demolish his heritage-protected former home, displaying the original front door as a token of his respect for the past.

Peterkin was one of the twitterati and spoke in short, meaning-condensed sentences. This became a major problem during the reconstruction as the workmen wrongly filled in the missing links of his reasoning regarding materials purchased. As a result costs were doubled causing immense capital gain loss in a virtual bear market situation.

The ultimate outcome was a superb, contemporary mansion without a roof. Now Appletree was above all else a modern man. He was by profession an investment advisor. Downticks were a normal part of his existence. Equities, face values, freezes were like everyday meals to him. So Peterkin didn’t worry.

Peterkin didn’t scream or scurry. He hedged and he dredged and he studied the market, as he turned his home into an open-air cinema and slept in the laundry. Who needs a real home when it can become venture capital? Success struck this man like lightning. Chain lightning. The money kept rolling in. Last we heard he is on the boards of several banks.

On the matter of time, beginnings can be surprising. Things we see as ordinary were often invented for us by gifted thinkers. Do you remember the telegram? The first one was sent by Samuel Morse in 1844 from Washington DC toBaltimore, Maryland. It read: “What hath God wrought?” In the same year the safety match was invented by Sweden’s chemistry academic Gustaf Erik Pasch and the first safe was invented by Alexander Fichet, a famous Paris locksmith. Two years later the German astronomer Johann Galle discovered the planet Neptune and six years later Isaac Singer patented the sewing machine. In 1852 Elisha Otis gave us the elevator and the brown paper bag was invented.

So you see, even to live ordinary lives we have to stand on the shoulders of giants.

A very different kettle of sea creatures (cliché avoided) is Gerald Frankenfood. Now Gerry is a perfect example of the modern-day illiterati. Books are unknown to him. With traditional written discourse he is something between a muggle and a noob. Pen and paper are also his known unknowns that he proudly knows are known to be unknown.His tool is the iPhone.

If he writes a cyber question to you it might look something like this: wut hpns win u write lyk dis.His answer could easily be OMG itz obvs.

Do you see what I mean? When you finally translate it, it’s much ado about nothing but nothing.

You might be wondering how Gerry and his ilk spend their time. Not hard to discover. They ride the radio waves and cultivate profitable shockable ignorance.

Ignorance can creep up on you. Notice this very deceptive lead-you-astray rime.

Mary Mary quite contrary

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells

And pretty maids all in a row.

Did you know that this Mary was actually Mary Tudor? Her contrary nature led her to execute hundreds of enemies (284 it seems) mainly on religious grounds. A widely held view is that the garden was the cemetery (constantly expanding) where Mary’s victims were buried.

The silver bells were thumb screws and the cockle shells were instruments of torture for the genitals. The pretty maids it is said were guillotines although most of “Bloody Mary’s” victims were put to death by burning. Interesting though. How often reality is hidden by false appearances!

How deceptive that illustration is! As a former teacher I find myself noticing how we currently mislead children in so many ways. I’m holding back here a tirade against Australia’s categorisation of pupils via the NAPLAN test. I’m tending to be like Bertrand Russell these days and hold my beliefs tentatively. Things keep revealing themselves as I grow older.

Take the Casablanca Conference between Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill in January 1943. I’m getting more ideas about it. Historians will tell you that this meeting laid plans for the rest of the war and declared absolute surrender from the Axis powers a confirmed demand at war’s end.

This was important later in 1945 when the Japanese were afraid of the word “absolute” and the danger for their Emperor if they gave in. The surrender was thus delayed allowing time for the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The thought now is that Japan was ready to quit before the two bombs were dropped but for fear of losing the Emperor. When peace ultimately came Hirohito was safe after all. So were all those nuclear deaths really necessary?